


I'm yours, as you are mine

by tornlinson



Series: soulmate one-shots [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Misunderstandings, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 16:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19154815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tornlinson/pseuds/tornlinson
Summary: Every human is born with a number printed on the inside of their wrist. The number conveys the age of your soulmate when you meet them. It neither changes colour, nor numbers, nor fades, for Fate has decided every action of the baby the moment it was born. Some may see how it is problematic, when numbers on the wrists vary from a single 1 to a number as far ahead as 84.When Anthony Stark was born, the numbers on his wrist were 1047.Never let it be said that he wasn't special.





	I'm yours, as you are mine

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, I tried. It's my first soulmate au, and I really hope I pulled this off.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)

Every human is born with a number printed on the inside of their wrist. It’s small, written in a bold black across different shades of skin, and remains the same for an entire lifetime. The number conveys the age of your soulmate when you meet them _._ It neither changes colour, nor numbers, nor fades, for Fate has decided every action of the baby the moment it was born. Some may see how it is problematic, when numbers on the wrists vary from a single **1** to a number as far ahead as **84**. How could one live knowing that they will only meet their soulmate, when said soulmate will only have a few more years of life?

When Anthony Stark was born, the numbers on his wrist were a bold **1047**.

 

+++

 

They were in the middle of attacking a HYDRA base when Tony saw the flash of green. If he weren’t constantly watching out for his surroundings, he would’ve missed it; would’ve missed how it was an eerily familiar shade of green, gone as quick as it had come.

“J, you saw that?” Tony asks, turning a complete 180 and shooting his repulsors at two robots who were flying towards him. Another one latched onto his leg, its metal fingers digging into Tony’s suit in a way that should definitely _not_ be possible. He shakes his leg a little, and eventually fires a repulsor that goes straight through the robot’s chest piece. It drops down several feet below in a metallic heap.  

_“Saw what exactly, sir?”_

Tony casts a wary glance at the area where he saw the green flash. It was empty, save for a thick tree and the several metal body parts of the robots that were scattered around. A robot is suddenly thrown at the tree with such force that Tony swears he heard a wooden crack, before the robot drops to the ground with its head landing a few feet away. Tony doesn’t even have to look to know that it was Thor’s doing.

“Nothing,” He finally says, flying up and scanning the area for any assistance from his side.

“ _That, I saw, sir.”_

Tony ignores that comment, instead, flies down to where Steve is tackling eight of the robots at once – his shield a blur of blue and red as it whizzes around. Tony aims his mini-missiles at them, and within seconds, they’re nothing but a mixture of metallic clunks and smoke. Steve looks up, squinting at Tony as he throws his hands up in a sign of irritation, because he is Captain America and he does not give the finger to anyone.

“I had them.”

“Yeah, well. I got ‘em.” And Tony’s gone. There’s another robot approaching Steve, and mildly irritated, he throws his shield at the approaching being and effortlessly decapitates it.

The green flash was still nagging Tony at the back of his brain. He shoots six approaching robots before asking Jarvis to give a quick scan of the area. Within seconds, an energy scan of the area pops up on his HUD. He spots the anomaly immediately – a strange energy spike a little away from the area Tony thought he saw something. He flies back, eyes wandering over the several robots running towards the fight on foot when he notices it. A robot that was a little away from the rest of the pack just combusted into metallic pieces. It was soon followed by spontaneous explosions of three others, completely at random this time. What the hell?

The other robots paid no attention to the odd explosions, instead remained entirely focused on tackling the rest of the Avengers as they continued running to where the fight was. Tony sends several repulsor blasts at their general direction for good measure. He’s about to fly off when he hears a faint _human_ groan from the direction of the robots he just shot at. He stops mid-flight, turning around to face the source of the voice. It’s empty, but he’s pretty sure he heard someone there.

Cautiously, Tony flies down and lands with a loud thump on the forest ground. He steps on several scattered parts of the robot, metal crinkling under the force of his boot. There’s no sign of movement as far as he can see, except for the soft gust of wind every time an explosion goes off in the distance. His senses are on high alert, which is how he hears the soft friction of leather against leather a few feet to his right. His repulsors charge up on reflex, and he immediately aims them at the direction of the sound.

“You have three seconds before you’re blasted to kingdom come,” Tony warns, and after three seconds of silence, he’s just about to shoot when the same green shimmer from before starts expanding from the middle of what Tony soon realizes to be a male chest. The shimmer expands, a thin line of green enveloping what Tony thought was just empty air, revealing long legs and a torso that’s clad in heavy leather. The figure is seated on the ground, against one of the tree trunks, legs stretch out in front of him. The green shimmer races to show hands held up in surrender, before finally reaching up to reveal the face.

Tony would have fired his repulsors anyways if he hadn’t spotted the huge burn in their leather armour, across the right side of their abdomen. It was burnt enough to reveal an expanse of pale skin that schooled a large brown burn mark. He comes to the conclusion that one of his stray repulsor blasts from before must have hit the man, which probably would have turned fatal if it was a few inches to the left.

“Your weapon seemed to have upgraded from the last time I encountered it,” Loki drawls, a high contrast against the helpless pose he sat in. Really, Tony’s gotta give it to the guy; the amused smile on his face looks too sarcastic against the hands that are up in surrender.

“Yeah, had it modified for you,” Tony responds almost immediately, unable to resist the chance for a quick-witted banter. “You like it?”

Loki smiles knowingly, realizing Tony’s poor attempt to converse and just hums in response.

“Anyways, correct me if I saw it wrong – well, technically, I didn’t really _see_ anything – but you _were_ helping us right? Before I charmingly shot you down?”

Loki’s smile falters, eyes flashing for a brief moment before they return to their previous state – amused and unbothered. “You did not _shoot_ me down, Stark.”

“Well, not yet,” Tony replies smugly, watching as Loki’s eyes flicker to Tony’s raised gauntlets. There’s a movement from somewhere to their side, and both men turn their heads to the source of the noise and see two robots approaching them. One was missing a limb, pathetically trying to catch up with one in front of it. Tony aims his gauntlet at them and shoots them into metal shards before turning his attention back to Loki, looking more smug than before.

“I should kill you,” Loki hisses, eyes narrowing in anger but before it has time to settle, it’s wiped off his face. “But,” He says, eerily calm, “As it turns out, I have healed, and I do not need to sit here in the pretence of a wounded animal anymore.” Tony notices too late that the burn mark Loki sported on the side of his abdomen, sometime during their conversation, had transformed back to milky white skin without a single evidence of a burn mark except for the charred leather that surrounded his exposed skin. Tony  also fires his repulsor a little too late, because Loki blinks out of existence in a shimmer of green, and the repulsor hits the tree trunk – entirely blackening a whole section of it.

“ _Excellent aim, sir.”_

 

“So, Thor, what’s the word on Maleficent these days?” Tony casually calls out from the cockpit of the quinjet. He had originally planned to just fly back in his suit, but talking to Thor in a one-on-one conversation about Loki would certainly raise a few concerns – so here he is.

There’s a silence, and then Thor starts. “What is –?”

“Maleficent? Funny looking horns, green magic, evil – ring a bell?”

“You wish to know the whereabouts of… Loki?”

“Bulls-eye!” Tony exclaims, eyes locked ahead as he raises a hand to give a thumbs up in the general direction of where Thor sat. When Thor doesn’t say anything, Tony continues. “So?” And _shit, that sounded a little desperate, didn’t it?_

“He is well, I suppose. He was in Asgard, last I checked. Father had lifted his punishment” A pause, and then curiously, “Has something happened?”

“No, just thinkin’ of when I saved New York. The usual,” Tony shrugs, earning a snort from Barton. There’s a tensed silence, and unconsciously, Tony starts rubbing his thumb against the inside of his left wrist. It had started out as an odd habit – a constant reminder that finding his soulmate is next to impossible – but soon, it transitioned to something he did whenever he felt uneasy.

“Stark, if you know something –“ Natasha starts, but is immediately cut off by Tony.

“Hey,” Tony turns, looking at Natasha, “Now that’s just wrong. I already feel threatened by the accusation.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, and Tony, credit to his childish behaviour, does the same. The rest of the ride is silent after that.

 

“Stark,” A chilling voice, very different from Jarvis’, greets when Tony steps out of the elevators and into his penthouse. Tony’s eyes snap up, only realizing that there was an absence of lighting in his penthouse. Loki stands at the far end of the floor, right in front of the windows as the light of the moon illuminates his silhouette. Leave it to Loki to form a dramatic greeting.

“If you wanted me to bring you home, you could’ve just asked,”

“I could slice your throat right now if I wish to do so, it would be in your best interest to refrain from mocking me.”

“And yet, here you are, not slicing my throat. What’s the occasion?” He says, manoeuvring himself around the couch so he could sit down, while being as far away from Loki as he could.

“I was able to reflect on our brief moment during the battle, and it has led me to the conclusion that you saved my life, by protecting me from the enemies and giving me enough time to heal.”

“Okay, you’re welcome. See ya never,” Tony waves at the god, who looks like he’s absolutely fuming at Tony’s childish behaviour.

“Never,” Loki hisses, fists clenched at his side as he angrily stalks forward to where Tony sat on the couch, “in my thousand years of life have I ever met someone so ungrateful to have one like _me_ in their debt.”

“I’ve been told I’m full of surprises,” Tony shrugs, and – _wait_. “Wait.”

Loki actually pauses mid-stride.

“Thousand years? You’re a _thousand years old?”_ Oh my god, the fucking _chance_ of this happening. How did he _never_ think of that? Of course, his soulmate couldn't have been human. What _human_ lives to a thousand? “Okay. Then how old is _Thor?_ He _is_ the older one, _right?”_ If _Thor_ turns out to be Tony’s soulmate, he will undoubtedly lose his shit. _First,_ he’d have to punch Thor for being the sole reason that Tony always felt like an outcast; making him feel as if the Fates played a joke on him; making him feel _unworthy_ of being loved. Tony leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and cradling his head in his hands, shielding his face completely from Loki.

“He is older only by a few years,” Loki confirms, and then continues. “Is this about your soulmate? Is my br – _Thor,_ your soulmate?”

A whisper of ‘ _Oh God_ ,’ followed by a low groan was all Loki needed to confirm his suspicion.

“Thor is four years elder to me, making him one thousand and fifty-one when you met him for the first time – during my threat, I presume. Is that…” Loki sounds hesitant, almost afraid to finish his sentence. “… his age on your wrist?”

Tony’s silent, because _no –_ that doesn’t make sense. The age of his soulmate should have been 1047 when they first met, but Thor was 1051 – four years _over_ the age when they first met. Loki said – _oh fuck_ – ‘four years elder to me,’ which would make _Loki_ 1047 when they first met, which would make _Loki_ his soulmate. _Loki_ should have Tony’s age – _42_ –  on the inside of his wrist.

Loki takes Tony’s silence as a _yes, it is Thor’s age on my wrist,_ and sighs. He turns on the lighting, and the penthouse is immediately flooded with light that it takes both of them to blink several times to get used to it. The god takes a seat on the couch beside Tony, hand resting against the mortals back and it only takes a second for both of them to still. The last time they ever had physical contact was when Loki had grabbed him by the neck and thrown him out of the windows of his own penthouse. Tony freezes only for a second before relaxing again. He has better things to worry about.

“If you are thinking of Thor, you need not worry. He will be a wonderful significant other, even if you are from two different worlds.”

“Uh-huh. How are you so sure? You got your soulmate yet?”

Loki shakes his head softly, a sad smile on his lips as he lifts the sleeve from his left wrist.

Tony’s heart almost beat out his chest when his eyes landed on the **42** that Loki wore on his wrist.

“Perhaps I have met them, but I have never bothered seeking them. I didn’t feel the need to impose myself on someone, whether their choice or not. I can be..” Loki trails off, searching for the right word, but eventually settling on saying it as it is, “difficult to love.”

Tony suddenly realizes the close proximity they’re seated in. Loki’s thigh is pressed against his own, the upper half of his body slightly facing Tony, with Tony mirroring the same action. Loki realizes it too, evident in the way his face suddenly snaps up – panic stricken. Tony can’t decipher the emotions fleeting through Loki’s face, can’t even decipher his own urge to kiss Loki – _Loki, his soulmate_ – because suddenly, he’s rushing forward and pressing his lips firmly against Loki’s.

Loki responds with equal want, lips moving in sync with Tony’s but it lasted all of one second before he pulls away. Lips parted and eyes widened – Loki looks completely shocked.

“Stark. This cannot happen – you – You are not mine. This is _wrong,”_ Tony notices the constant flicker of Loki’s gaze down to his lips as he speaks, and he comes to the conclusion that Loki still _wants,_ however wrong it may be for him, which is why when Tony’s leaning forward again, Loki’s the one to close the gap between their lips.

There’s a low moan that emerged from their throats, as lips moved desperately and forcefully against each other. Soft and rough – in all the right ways. Their bodies pressed flush against each other, and Loki pushes Tony back down on the sofa while the inventor wraps his legs around Loki’s thighs, crossing his ankles and keeping Loki steady in place. Loki’s kisses are hungry as they trail down the side of Tony’s jaw, and down to his neck where Loki starts sucking. Spots of burgundy are marked across Tony’s neck and collarbone as Loki presses his lips to Tony’s chest, and then presses his tongue flat against Tony’s nipple. The feeling sends a shiver throughout Tony’s body, and he uses his free hand to run his fingers through Loki’s hear. There’d be a moan from Loki whenever Tony tugged too hard as a result of Loki’s tongue cleverly working on his nipple.

Loki moves back up, reattaching their lips together as their hips grind against each other – bulges hardening at an increasing speed. A low groan escapes from the back of Tony’s throat, and he places his hands on either side of Loki’s face and keeps their faces steady against each other. It’s only after several minutes of kissing, biting and grinding against each other, that they finally part – chests heaving rapidly in sync.

“If only you were mine,” Loki whispers, fingers trailing down the side of Tony’s face. “You might have actually loved me… for me.”

“I am,” Tony says, cupping a side of Loki’s face with his hand, eyes penetrating the rich green of the god’s. “Yours, I mean.” His fingers grab at the wristwatch on his left wrist, fumbling with the strap until it finally loosens. He sees the second Loki’s eyes catches the numbers on his wrist, transitioning from disbelieving to happiness. There's a smile forming on his face as his eyes flick to Tony, forming a question that is desperate to burst out of him.

“Yeah. We’ll be okay, Lokes,” Tony nods, cradling Loki’s cheek, his thumb swiping across the high cheekbone that framed the god’s face. “I’m yours, as you are mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, thoughts? 
> 
> I'm thinking if I should post a sequel of sorts, just to sort of give insight on their relationship when and after the rest of the team finds out. It will probably depend on the viewership on this fic, but we'll see, ha.


End file.
